


Not Less So Here

by Brigdh



Category: Swordspoint - Kushner
Genre: Backstory, Established Relationship, M/M, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 09:15:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brigdh/pseuds/Brigdh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec moves in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not Less So Here

**Author's Note:**

> Set pre-Swordspoint. Written for the New Year's Resolutions 2006 Challenge at Yuletide. A million thanks to vom_marlowe, Rana Eros, and p_zeitgeist for beta'ing; any mistakes remaining are mine.  
> Disclaimer: All characters and places belong to Ellen Kushner.

"Where do you go when you're not here?"

Richard watched as Alec rolled over to look at him: his hair was terrifically mussed, more of it loose and straggling across his face and neck than in the ribbon that had tied it back, and the moon shone silver on his neck and a patch of arm, where the skin was still slick with sweat. No answer could be as interesting.

But Alec tucked one hand behind his head and stretched indolently, almost posing to accompany the theatrical tone of his voice. "How kind of you to ask. There are a few foreign queens and young daughters of elderly noblemen who have made my acquaintance, and they are so pathetically grateful for a moment of my time that it's rather pitiful. And then I must pay a visit to my banker, because I certainly can't keep track of all the jewels they've gifted me with. I have tea with the Crescent Chancellor in the afternoons; he'd be entirely useless without my advice. Occasionally, I lecture at the University, but only when they can find a hall large enough to fit everyone who would attend, which, in truth, is seldom." He smiled to himself, caught in his own poisonous words. Richard wondered that he could find bitterness in such fairy-tales, but Alec recalled himself sharply, mouth flattening. "You'd find it dreadfully boring, I'm sure."

"Do you think so?" Richard stroked the line of Alec's jaw, and Alec turned his head to press against the touch, keeping his eyes on Richard.

"Mmm," he said, low in his throat. "I do. They are intensely uninteresting. You should see the fits they throw when someone is so rude as to die in front of them."

In Richard's experience, they rather tended to find it the perfect adornment to a party, but it was needless to point out the lie; let Alec paint the Hill gold and black in turn, if he wanted. Richard shifted to lean over him, let his fingers trace further back until they curled in the softest, thinnest hairs on the nape of Alec's neck. He bent over to speak with his mouth against Alec's throat. "What a good thing you can escape here, then."

"Yes, isn't it," Alec said, but he stiffened.

Richard didn't mind Alec's capricious moods, though other people who spoke to him seemed bothered by his sudden swings in temperament. Talking to Alec was like walking in the dark, unsure of where he might stumble over something painful. Richard liked that Alec was unpredictable. He liked the incongruity of his slow, mannered voice with the acid things he said and the sarcastic vanity of the way he held himself. Alec was spending the nights in Richard's rooms more often than not, now, and the days he didn't were too short and inconsistent to be for a class, despite the student's robe he wore. It didn't truly matter where he went; Richard had only been curious enough to ask because he wanted to see what Alec would say. For someone so unafraid of death, Alec was strangely terrified of revealing his past.

Richard pulled back and propped his chin on a hand, resting the other on Alec's chest. "I'll try to keep you entertained."

"You're very good at it," Alec said lightly.

"Am I?"

"Oh, yes." Alec relented enough to capture Richard's wrist and tug him closer. His face was still distant, but he curved his body around Richard's. "Perhaps I'll bring you with me the next time I make calls. You could cause a scandal."

Richard smiled. "You'd enjoy that."

"I enjoy annoying boring people. It makes them more amusing." Alec fitted himself comfortably against Richard, lovely in the shadows and milky moonlight even if he was troubled. He put his hands on Richard's face to kiss him, and Richard forgot the whole conversation.

***

"There you are," Alec said.

"So I am." Richard turned from the pickpocket he'd been watching cut the strings to a purse, curious if the unwitting owner would notice, but it looked like Willie would get away. He kicked his chair back from the table, making room for Alec to sit. "Do you want a drink?"

"No. You're always here. Aren't you tired of it?" Alec remained standing and tossed a brief, disdainful glance across Rosalie's, then continued before Richard could answer. "Let's do something different."

Richard stood, amicably diverted. "If you want. What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. I suppose I'll think of something." Alec shrugged as though he couldn't be bothered, but he led the way quickly out into the streets.

It was still early in the fall, summer really, but this night was cooler than any had yet been. The chill had turned the humid air to a fog that lurked in the stiller alleys, catching the light that shone from windows and open doors and smearing it in streaks through the air. The buildings grew smaller and more numerous, though not nicer, as they walked, and Richard recognized the University district. Alec's stride was longer than Richard's, but he walked more slowly, ignoring his surroundings with a negligent familiarity; it made it easy to walk side by side, even when Alec began criticizing the architecture they passed and turned to glare at particularly offensive features. The fog made some noises seem closer and others too distant. It blurred the edges of wood, but stone was bright and wet, an effect that made the city feel close and sheltering around him.

Alec stopped in front of a building identical to the others on that street, and tilted his head, staring up at it. Richard waited by his side, and Alec turned to him. "Try not to disturb the landlord. I haven't paid him rent in two months and he's thoroughly displeased with me."

Richard raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

The stairs inside were narrow and creaked loudly, but it was well-lit and the walls had been recently plastered. Alec came to a door and unlocked it; gestured Richard inside. The room was small and seemed not quite square, as though someone had shoved it in the space between the stairs and the corner of the building, and had had to squash it slightly to fit. The fireplace was empty and long disused, and piles of papers littered all the flat surfaces, interspersed with empty bottles of ink and stubs of candles and tools Richard didn't recognize. For all the mess, there was something missing from the room, as though it had recently been even more of a mess, and the remaining chaos hadn't yet spread out to cover the holes.

Alec closed the door behind them. "Lovely, isn't it?" He made the words sound like the name of someone he hated. He plucked at the sheets on the bed, tossing them into an arrangement slightly more ordered than they had been. "This is the bed, which is the only thing here we're really concerned with. It's narrower than yours, of course, and I imagine has rather a lot more bugs in it. I'm not sure what it's stuffed with; perhaps the straw from the stable that was too urine-soaked to feed to the anemic donkey."

Richard looked at him mildly. "There's nothing wrong with my rooms."

"Except that they are _your_ rooms." Alec pursed his lips. "Would you have me be always dependent on your kindness, like a kept boy? Or a poor cousin?"

Richard shrugged. "If you wanted."

Alec smirked, but the sardonic expression didn't quite cover his genuine amusement. "Think of my pride."

He held out a hand to Richard, who stepped forward to take it, closing in to stand against his side. Alec leaned back against the wall in a lazy pose, but pulled Richard with him, into him.

"Your pride is a tiny, unpaid room?"

"No, of course not. This is worthless, we could ruin this as though it meant nothing." Alec laughed, his warm breath stirring Richard's hair. "But I tricked you here, didn't I?"

"You did. Poor me, doomed to be cruelly used." Richard bent his head to taste the warm skin just below the collar of Alec's robe. Alec's hands grasped his shoulders, pressed tight to curve of muscle and then fisting to yank at his shirt.

"You're a fool to be so careless," Alec said, and he was no longer joking, but Richard covered his mouth with his own and Alec made no protests. Alec's hands crept up to Richard's face, holding him tightly as they kissed. He embraced Alec's waist, holding him close enough to feel his heat, and spread his fingers wide, pressing his hands against the long, flat planes of Alec's back.

Alec's thumbs scraped across his cheeks and he pressed on him, forcing Richard to take a step back to keep his balance; his calf bashed against the low edge of the bed. "Ah," Alec said, mouth still close enough to brush against Richard's, catching his upper lip and then releasing it to bite the corner of his mouth. "You are wearing entirely too many clothes, Richard."

Richard unclasped his cloak without looking where it fell, and began to work on the buttons of his shirt. Alec stepped back to give him space, and watched avidly, only bothering to shrug off his robe. His eyes skipped from Richard's face to his hands and in each place were uncalm. As soon as Richard's shirt slipped off, Alec touched his chest, fingers skating from his shoulders to the top of his breeches, teasing touches. Richard let him, moving to unfasten Alec's shirt for him.

Alec's hands mapped the shape of Richard's body, firm and then unbearably weightless, seeking his arms and back and stomach, drawing half-circles low on his waist and dipping lower, all the while murmuring nonsense too low for Richard to make out any words, just Alec's elegant drawl. By the time he was easing the sleeves off Alec's wrists, Richard was breathing hard.

"Down, lie down," Alec said, and Richard found the bed behind him, and for all Alec's disparagement of it, it seemed wonderfully convenient. Alec knelt above him, a hand trying to untie Richard's breeches, but he kept distracting himself, slipping down to rub against where Richard ached. Alec pressed too hard; he always thought of himself as insufficient and forgot his own strength, but Richard thought his intensity wonderful. He spread his legs and moved to roll them onto their sides, but Alec shoved him back down. "No, no, like this, Richard, perfect like this-"

Alec pinned him to the bed with a hand on Richard's bicep; Richard surrendered the lead to Alec freely, willing to share his impulse. Alec put all his weight on that arm, leaving his other hand free to work between them, so clever as Richard lifted his hips for Alec to slide his breeches down. Alec was kissing him low on his chest, tongue wet and hot, but when Richard tried to catch his mouth he only managed a mouthful of hair. He arched back, lifting his chin and flattening his shoulders to the bed as Alec held him in his hand, long fingers and soft palm coaxing him up, and Alec pressing himself into Richard's hip, bearing down in rough circles for his own relief.

"Look at you, oh, look at you," Alec was saying, but Richard closed his eyes, content with only feel. Alec pushed up his thighs, and Richard hooked his legs over Alec's hips, pulled him close; when he managed a glimpse between slit eyelids, Alec was pale except for red spots high on his cheeks, and his eyes were wide. Alec had some reason for coming here, though Richard didn't know what, and it was consuming him; ideas could shake Alec like a terrier with a rat. Richard breathed shallowly and tried to put off the end.

Alec had things in ready, so he was quick, and it was still too slow, there was still waiting and Alec's green eyes focused on him and that long taut time when it seemed like everything was almost in the right place. When Alec entered him, his hands were clenched on Richard's hips, fingernails in the skin. It hurt, but that was fine; the pain was only another part to the feel of Alec inside. Alec shuddered, and Richard stroked his shoulders, curled his fingers in the hair that spilled over his shoulders. All he could think of was the shivers of Alec's waist between his thighs, trembling down within him with too little force. "Richard," Alec said, just that, but his voice was thickened and rough.

Richard grasped for words, found only, "Shhhh."

Alec surged forward to kiss him, and that was enough to break the moment; then there was a rhythm between them. It stretched in heat and tension, and what was good at first grew better, raced on. Richard shifted on the bed, pushing up to meet Alec, who was feral, always wild, kissing everywhere and crying out and gloriously mad. Alec was rarely quiet, even now, so that he hummed and stuttered into Richard's mouth, until it felt like Richard was holding a living firework, crashing forever. Richard's thoughts filled with pleasure until there was nothing outside of it, and then he didn't think at all.

The next thing was Alec by his side, half-draped on him, one of Richard's hands caught and held against his mouth.

Richard watched the ceiling until his breathing slowed; there was a cobweb in a corner that bobbed on a draft. Alec seemed preoccupied, busy thinking of something. Richard left him alone. His eyes closed and he thought tiredly of a piece of straw that was poking his back, but he wasn't sure it was worthwhile to move.

"Most of this is trash," Alec said. His lips tickled Richard's palm when they moved. "I'll leave it here; there's no need for us to take care of refuse."

"In the morning." Richard agreed without looking.

"Don't fall asleep. You wouldn't be nearly so lovely with bug bites all over you." Alec pinched him, hard, to prove his point. Richard swatted his hand. "Do you think your blood tastes different than mine?"

Richard didn't answer him. "You don't want to walk back to Riverside now?"

"Yes." Alec sat up; told him imperiously, "You can carry my books."

Richard reluctantly rubbed at his face. "You're throwing your books away?"

"Richard, I do _not_ throw away books." Alec leaned over him and grabbed his shirt from the floor, pulled it on over his shoulders but left it unbuttoned down the front. His lips were set in a flat line. "I'm not coming back here."

Richard glanced at the mess in the room, thought of Alec reading at the table, of dark winter mornings. "I'd like that."


End file.
